


Down There For Dancing

by Davechicken



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-02-20
Packaged: 2018-09-25 22:31:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,026
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9849311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Davechicken/pseuds/Davechicken
Summary: Kylo's going to make his time at the gay bar worth it. (This time.)





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Content warning:** Kylo’s young, and his views on transgender people are not the author’s. He’s not _offensive_ , per se, he just isn’t sure how he’d feel dating someone non-cis. If someone still questioning their sexuality in relation to trans people is upsetting please avoid this.

Yeah so Kylo has _totally_ been here before. Lots. Lots and lots. He has. (Okay, so it’s been a few times, and he’s bottled it before doing anything every other time.) 

It’s not that he’s shy, or socially backward, or anything. It’s just that he’s… uh. Got standards. Yeah, that’s it. He’s totally waiting for Mr Right. He _came_ to the gay bar, isn’t that enough?

It’s not his fault he seems to mostly get hit on by women. Which - well - flattering, but not his thing. He’s not sure if he could even manage it if they were - you know - plumbed the way he wanted. He’s just never been attracted to women, and someone who thinks of themselves as female _is_ female, at least as far as his libido is concerned. If they use ‘she’ then he uses ‘she’, and he’s not into ‘her’… so. 

But as to the ladies hitting on him… Are they bi? Are they just cruising for a third wheel? Are they here because they think it’s ‘cool’? Whatever. He’s not into women. End of.

[[MORE]]

He hasn’t yet worked out how he’d feel if he was approached by a guy who - uh - was plumbed the _other_ way, but he figures he can cross that bridge if and when he finds himself attracted to someone. There’s ways and means. Heaven knows he’s only getting action with his hand at the minute, and if someone wants to bugger him with a multi-tool, he could get down with that? Probably?

It’s just so confusing. Even reading up online beforehand about what to expect, it’s nothing like this. Why he can’t just do what everyone seems to do in the fanfic that proliferates the internet, and find the love of his life over a skinny soy latte, he doesn’t know. The Straights™ seem to have an easier time of it, but the college LGBT+ (the other letters become fuzzier in his memory, though he knows better than to admit that to the group) doesn’t have anyone he could see himself settling down with.

Kylo doesn’t really _want_ a college romance. He wants a real romance. Okay, he also wants them to be hot as hell, but he’d settle for easy on the eyes and great to talk to. The second bit is a deal breaker, but possibly he needs to get the first few fucks out of his system, and do more than just fumble in a tent with another boy whose catchphrase is _no homo_ when he’s jerking you off. 

Even so, romantic as Kylo is, he’s here, guzzling things he probably shouldn’t, trying to pluck up the courage to court someone. (Court. Sounds like something Mom would say.) He tastes the acerbic tang in the shot, and he resolves he’s going to try to find someone to grind up against, or he’ll be going home with his dick in knots again, if he’s not too drunk to deal with his latent frustration, of course.

So he wanders to the edge of the dance floor, and his dick pretty much does that thing in cartoons where part of the anatomy (usually the heart) makes an arrow directly at what it wants.

What it wants, in this case, is a willowy, flame-topped beauty. All long lashes and smudged-gloss lips. Dramatic eyeliner and clothing he’s been poured into, gyrating with all the grace of a siren of old. 

Kylo wants that one. Yep. The sensible But I Want To Date First bit gets quietened, maybe because of the alcohol. Anyway, his cock pulls him along by the hand, dragging him close to this whirling dervish of a man, and he sways a little from one foot to the other as he tries to work out how you ask a guy to dance.

Apparently you don’t, because he turns his back on you. Kylo is about to die of shame when the whisp moves like the ocean, curling and rolling to the beat, showing his ass and shoulders off when his hands go up and into his hair. It’s an enticing prospect, and the sea-storm eyes that glint over a shoulder invite him in.

For three whole dances, Kylo is In The Zone. He has hands on this thing, and the smell of his sweat and cologne are rich in his nose. His lips never quite brave skin, but his cheek brushes throat as his hands press onto slender hipbones, and they find a mutual rhythm that has Kylo’s cock doing more little somersaults in his too-tight jeans, begging to be let out to play.

Just when Kylo’s going to ask a name to go with the ass-crack that’s teasing his lap-rocket… the svelte thing slips from his grip and shimmies away through the crowd. 

Which.

Great.

Now he’s hard, and the Man of his Dreams (or at least, his Wet Dreams) is now off getting someone else hard. Maybe he has a partner, and he does it to make his partner jealous? Or maybe he gets off on making people want… 

Kylo slinks back to the bar, and does two more shots in quick succession, trying to tame the savage Little Kylo, which is currently gently weeping into his jeans. 

It’s another two songs before he catches the red-head again, and sees him leaning back against a wall, where a brute of a bear has one arm pressed into it, beside his head. His body-language screams _Control_ , and the other’s screams _Fuck Off_ , but the first one isn’t reading it. He’s clearly trying his luck, and - even if Red did bail on him - Kylo can’t let him be taken advantage of by someone whose thighs could choke a man. He’s half-way over when it happens.

One minute, Big ‘n’ Beefy is crowding him, the next… he’s on the floor, with his right arm pushed up and tent-pole saluting between his shoulders. His wrist is locked in the pin, and Red has a foot between his shoulderblades.

It’s. Wow. Kylo isn’t even sure how he got from Point A to Point B, but he’s definitely impressed, and infinitely aroused.

“What?” Red asks, flicking his hair back.  


“…thought you might need a hand.”  


“I can take care of myself.”  


“I see that.” Kylo pauses, and then gulps. “But you don’t have to, if you don’t want to.”  


***

It’s barely three minutes later, and they’re in the bathroom, making out.

Or… well, you can’t really call it ‘making out’. It’s more enthusiastic tasting of tonsils, and doing a more thorough dental exam than Kylo remembers getting in his life. There’s hands under his jacket, ankles locked around his waist, and everyone’s giving them a wide berth.

Maybe this will take the edge off his neuroses? And then he can settle down. He’s pretty sure Red here isn’t one for Soy Latte Coffee Shop AU, but maybe he is by day and he’s just a slut by night?

Hmmm.

He’ll slip him his number, see if he calls. Or shows up on Grindr. 

Red pushes him back, and Kylo staggers… all the way back into the cubicle, because Red is all over him again. The door slams shut behind them, but Red doesn’t shoot the bolt closed. Instead, he’s down on his knees, biting at the front of Kylo’s jeans.

“You clean?” the man asks, even as he rips open a condom, and places it in his mouth to slide down over his now-free cock.  


It’s something, watching his shaft vanish into the other’s mouth, and re-appear sheathed. 

“I - uh - yes.”  


“Me too. Still not taking chances.”  


Which is wise, but he still guesses he’d rather know if the guy was higher risk. He’s glad he didn’t have to ask, and apparently he doesn’t need to lead the way, either, because the Red head bounces up and down over his condom-clad cock, slurping and moaning like it’s a treat. 

Kylo bites his fist, stifling an unmanly sound. It’s so damn hot, and he hopes he hasn’t drunk too much to finish, and what’s the etiquette in this situation? Does he say: “Oh… oh right there… oh, yes…”

Apparently that’s good, because the man looks up, and he can see the smudges around his eyes better, now, and the trail of lip-gloss over the translucent dick-sock. 

“You know how to prep a guy?” Red asks, whilst rubbing his cock all over his lips.   


“…myself.” Okay. He has to be honest.  


“Same principle. Don’t assume I’m as easy as you are, just because I like sex,” Red says, rising and turning. His hands press into the graffiti-adorned door, and his legs brace.   


Kylo pauses, and then sees a tiny little sachet of lube sticking out from one pocket. Oh thank the stars… he rips it open, and warms it on his fingers, then starts to stroke around his hole.

“You gonna eat my cock whole, with your ass?”  


“Darling, I didn’t bring you here for a conversation. I brought you because you have a dick like a baby’s arm holding an avocado. So…”  


Oops. Okay. He can respect that, even if it’s a little blow to his emotional core. Kylo nods, and focuses on touching, but…

“ _Fine_. You can talk a little, but don’t pull any shit you heard in a porno, okay? I’m a real person, not just a boy cunt.”  


“S-sorry, I’m new to–”  


“No shit. Keep it like that… yes… ahh, lower… push it in. Push it in _sllllllowwwww_ , right there…”  


Listening to him purr out commands is all kinds of hot, and Kylo finds himself getting back to full strength at the moans and demands. Red won’t let him stop until he’s three-fingers deep in, and then he’s clawing at the door.

Anyone outside must know, even without the talking. Two pairs of boots, one behind the other. He steps in close, and slides his covered cock in almost to the root.

“…you… did keep the glove on?”  


“Of course,” he says, slightly offended he needed to ask.  


“Okay. Good. Sorry, just… bad ex.”  


Very bad ex. Kylo is far too sensible to exchange those fluids with someone on a first… uh… meeting. He starts to grind in deeper, and their thrusting isn’t fast to start with, because he doesn’t want to ram him too hard.

It’s not until Red bends, keening slightly, that he realises he can go for it. He reaches around to stroke the man’s full and straining cock, and keeps whispering, asking him where he wants it, needs it. Asking him: here? Here? Harder?

Red goes from issuing commands to begging, and it’s so. Damn. Hot. Kylo slams into him with all the force he can muster, feeling the clench around him, the gaspy breaths and the lowing for more, more, more.

He doesn’t _have_ much more, and he says so. Says he’s close, and Red begs to come first. Kylo would make sure he came, but he can understand the worry, so he redoubles his hand over the man’s cock, and then sinks his teeth just into his shoulder. 

Weirdly, that’s what makes him come. Hot, ropy strands that hit the door, and a clenching, tightening hole that pulls his climax out in quick succession. He keeps moving until he can’t, and then he collapses on his back, feeling pretty damn good for himself.

“Not bad for your first time….”  


“Kylo,” he supplies.  


“Hux,” Red replies. “Get a bit more practice in, and we’ll talk.”  


Of course, he snorts. “Surely you’re the best teacher I could have?”

“Probably… but I think you’re looking for someone a bit more white collar than me.”  


Balls-deep in him, just now getting his name, and he wonders how Hux has such a read on him already.

“Maybe you let me be the judge of what I want… unless I’m too new for your liking…?”  


Hux huffs in amusement. “Buy me a drink. If you’re interesting enough to buy me a second, we’ll see.”

Kylo kisses the mark better. “I’ll buy the biggest drink they sell. Even if it’s a magnum of champagne.”

Hux continues to laugh, until Kylo doesn’t. “You’re serious.”

“Yeah. I’m serious. How about you?”  



End file.
